


I wanna know everything

by Radiklement



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Byleth has complicated emotions, Claude has a crush, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Psychological, Tea times, and drugs, grieving Byleth, talks of poisons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22086703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiklement/pseuds/Radiklement
Summary: It's hard to guide young ones when all you've ever known is how to be a mercenary. As she tries to come to terms with what happened to her father, Byleth shows an unexpected reaction to Claude. She's hurt. This force of nature can ache like anyone else and the young man decides it's up to him to help her. But whenever he tries to help, it seems Byleth is one step further, ready to push him closer to realizing his dream. How both of them support each other throughout their time in the academy, during the war, and after.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	1. I trust you

**Author's Note:**

> I finished my first playthrough, which mean I can finally start writing on my favorite pair of this game (although I’m already having new ships all over the place and have no idea what to do with myself). Spoilers for the entire game can be expected.
> 
> I wanted to mess around with the scene where Claude borrows Jeralt’s diary from Byleth, because, for a grand schemer, Claude can be incredibly insensitive sometimes and I really wanted him to realize it. We get both character’s pov and this will be part of a serie of one-shot spanning on the same timeline.

The tears had been something new. Making the world blurry when she needed every detail. The creases on his face. The light in his eyes. The way he would smirk. Her hearing seemed to tune out all noise, even his voice, as though her brain refused to process the stimuli she was receiving. She’d seen it happen before. The knife and the blood. Had gone back and yet it still…

…

Rhea’s apologies didn’t change the strange knot building up in Byleth’s stomach as she stood in the audience room. The talk was taking too long and she wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Seteth seemed to realize it, but Rhea could never keep her around long enough and while Byleth usually felt more at ease around her for a reason she couldn’t fathom…

Today was not one of these days. Sleep barely took root when she was excused and allowed to her room. Byleth kept on turning around the words Jeralt had said at the beginning of the last month.

_“There’s something I want to tell you.”_

It had felt ominous, because while Byleth was fine with letting her father keep secrets from her, she also wanted to know more. There had always been some sort of wall between them. He would smile at her and lose his smile almost as quickly. She remembered him taking afternoons off to take her on a picnic or to a nearby village. She remembered staying by his side instead of playing with other kids. She remembered the dull impression that something was always missing. The picnics would usually turn into training. Training along Jeralt had been the one time where things made sense. They would hunt together until he was certain she could hunt on her own. They would cook together, but soon he was convinced she did fine on her own. And now this was how she was once more. On her own.

**_“You remember me, right?”_ **

Not alone. Not in the true sense, Byleth corrected herself.

Sothis was perturbed. She suggested visiting Jeralt’s quarters. Finding the journal he’d mentioned as Byleth had held him.

The thought of never holding him again had her wondering how many times they’d hugged. Deep down, she knew, it hadn’t been as much as she’d wanted. But their hugs had always been awkward. She had been such a stiff child. Leonie’s words still rang in her ears.

_“Did you even care for him at all?!”_

_I did. I do. I’ve always… I think I do?_

Walking along the corridors, Byleth kept her head down, while spotting each of her students. They were particularly gentle with her. Asking if she was doing okay. She nodded, to each of them, wondering why the knot in her stomach was growing larger. It felt like a stone had settled in there. A spot in the middle of her chest was heavier and it ached whenever she swallowed. For some reason, the very sensation made her swallow a lot more than usual. And Sothis commented on it.

Hearing Alois talking of fond memories of her father was not what she needed, every word making the invisible weight on her chest harder to bear and she hurried to Jeralt’s quarters. The room held a very faint scent that was like him. Pine and leather. A faint desire to leap onto the bed to breathe in the scent flashed through her mind and was gone just as fast. Byleth stood frozen in the room for a minute, trying to catch that need to remember him.

 _My father,_ she thought. _My family._

The words felt foreign, and everything ached and then she was numb again.

 ** _“The journal.”_** Sothis reminded her.

Byleth took three steps forward, mentally measuring the length of her strides. They were small, shaky and she steadied herself. No weakness, not in Jeralt’s room. Her hands searched and a few quills and papers were knocked off the desk, much to her own shock. She wasn’t clumsy.

As a child, she had only broken one thing in their tiny house, and it had been while sick with such a high fever, Jeralt hadn’t slept, changing the cold wipes on her forehead and throat the entire night with fresh snow. At one point, she’d wanted to join him outside to collect snow, maybe thinking to could try making a snow culture and she’d walked right into the table…

 _Inconsequential_ , she warned herself. _Focus._

The journal. Its leather felt warm under her palm. Turning it open, she felt the blur come back to her vision at the very sight of his writing. When he was away for an extended time, he would try and write to her and she’d learned the sharp edges of his handwriting. She didn’t dare to trace the lines in fear she could smear the ink. Every tiny word could be precious. Except Jeralt was a man of a few words and as she turned the pages looking for the passages she’d expected he would be willing to share, she felt the tiny connection to her father growing fainter and fainter.

He listed battles and missions. Mentioned names she didn’t know, places she hadn’t seen. She’d always followed him, but had it been from a distance?

Then her mother appeared in the journal and the sheer joy Jeralt spoke of touched her heart. The stone in her stomach vanished until she turned the pages again.

_The child has no heartbeat._

That sounded awfully like her, but for some reason, Jeralt couldn’t write her name. She was “the child”. He’d faked her death and took her away from the church of Seiros, away from lady Rhea.

_What was done to me? Why am I so different?_

A knock at the doorway had her look up, realizing she hadn’t even thought of closing the door. Claude entered as their eyes met, appraising her state but his eyes were focused on the book in her hands.

“Hey Teach. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she answered him mechanically.

The weight on her chest was back, so painfully heavy, Byleth wondered if her bones could hold.

“You do look better than yesterday. Is that Jeralt’s journal?”

Byleth nodded, pushing herself to her feet. She didn’t remember sitting down. She didn’t remember crushing a quill under the sole of her shoe either, but there it was and she closed the journal, sensing the tiny urge of hugging the book.

 _Weakness, weakness,_ she thought.

“Would you mind me borrowing it? There must be crucial information in there that could help us with everything that is going on.”

Now Byleth was tempted to tell him she was well aware, but having an external view on what Jeralt had written could bring them more perspective. Her eyes kept blurring out, she might have missed a few words. Maybe even sentences.

“Sure, you can have it. Just be…”

“Great!” Claude exclaimed, a little too enthusiastic. “I mean, I would have find a way to get my hands on it if you’d said no…”

Byleth’s arms closed around the book, her vision perfectly clear as one of her brows twitched ever so slightly.

“I beg your pardon?”

Claude blinked, taken aback by the change of tone.

“I… With how little Rhea…”

Byleth cut him off, her voice sharp but cold, sounding like it would when she’d ask a question regarding a battle strategy during class.

“Claude, what is the point of asking me for my permission if you don’t need it?”

This time, the teenager had the decency to look away, slowly realizing the impact of his words. He wasn’t sure what he thought saying that out loud would achieve, was he looking for praise for his persistence or his scheming abilities?

“I’m sorry, teach, that was…”

“This journal was my father’s. I wouldn’t want just anyone reading it. I am not even done reading it myself. I trust you, Claude. But if you go around my back for something like this. If you go around my back at all, I…!”

She swallowed the anger back down, wondering if she’d ever seen the boy look this pale. He’d closed his mouth shut halfway through her speech, but he had been gapping at her for the first half.

“That trust would be lost,” she stated, keeping her voice neutral.

He nodded, his shoulders lowering another notch.

“I apologize, professor. I was out of line and insensitive.”

“Apology accepted. Here.”

She offered him the journal, forcing her hands to unclench. Claude hesitantly took the book from her. As soon as he was holding it, her feet moved, to take herself away from this room that suddenly felt too small to hold her. She needed water to dissolve the weight on her chest. She needed space to feel like she was breathing right. She needed to keep it in control to evade upsetting any of the students, Claude included.

“Teach, wait!” he called after her.

She stopped in the doorway, looking back at him. Blinked away the blur. One breath in, the pressure on her ribcage so hard, she couldn’t take another breath.

“If you… need anything, like… I don’t know, anything, really. I’m _here_ , you know?”

Her lips didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t blink. But something shifted and she was afraid staying any longer would allow the blur to take over and her eyes would spill.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

She walked away as quickly as possible without taking off into a run. Claude took the hint, remaining where he was, his eyes falling on the book he was holding.

“Of course she’s not fine. She watched her father die…”

How stupid he felt for even saying he’d considered… Hitting his head against the book just once before realizing he could damage the damned thing by doing so, Claude promised himself he would look after his teacher closer for the next few weeks. She was always so strong and taking things in stride, he’d forgotten she had to be human under it all.

…

“Say, Hilda?”

“Hmm?”

Class had just ended and Byleth had left the classroom first, going off to find Alois to train on something. The others were getting ready to leave, Lorenz managing to convince Marianne into a cup of tea while Ignatz, Leonie and Raphael chatted about the next few tournaments.

“If you’d messed up with someone, how would you make it up to them?”

“Who are you and where is Claude von Riegan?” Hilda shot back, looking at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“Very funny. I’m just worried about teach. It’s been three weeks since Jeralt and…”

“Do you listen to yourself Claude? Three weeks is not enough to grieve. When my mother passed away, it took me months to get over myself. What did you do to the professor?”

_Did this to yourself, buddy, time to get out._

“Did I say anything like that? I’m feeling dizzy, I’d better go get some rest!”

“Claude!”

“So dizzy!” he insisted.

His classmates watched him run off, some with smiles, some others shaking their head.

“He can be so carefree sometimes…”

…

Claude was a resourceful young man and figured that he could try a very simple thing for his teacher. Whenever a student felt down, Byleth would invite them for a cup of tea or two. Not everyone got to be invited, but it was rumored that Byleth was particularly specific about picking the student’s favorite tea, offering sweets and having a great time. Getting to be invited by their professor for tea had turned into a much wanted experience and Claude still remembered fondly the time he’d been invited himself. It felt a lot more special than the little chats in the hallways or the cafeteria. Inviting her seemed simple enough and he usually had no difficulty walking up to Byleth and just speaking his mind.

But the very reason why he was planning on inviting her was not only because of her reprimanding him in Jeralt’s room. Ever since that day, their teacher had become more distant with her students. She didn’t initiate conversations quite as often. She didn’t give gift to anyone this month and she was usually overly generous, to the point where Claude had wondered if she was bribing students into their class. He liked her vision that anyone and everyone could be an ally. She saw beyond colors, beyond allegiance to lords and didn’t care if she was recruiting a noble or a common-born student. Remembering the ball and how nervous he’d been deep down as they’d danced, he scratched at the back of his neck, fighting against a light flush.

He’d made her twirl and had met her later that night, admitting to dreams and ambitions he wanted to see fulfilled with her by his side. And then her father had been killed and he’d dismissed it like it was already forgotten.

He felt pretty terrible, especially after reading the man’s journal. It sounded like Byleth had a very lonely childhood and barely ever smiled. He hadn’t expected to learn so much about his teacher through this diary. Oh, he’d hoped he would, he was realizing it now. But he still didn’t _know_ her. He’d picked up on everything he could, surviving as a mixed-blood noble required a good grasp on understanding people. But when it came to his teacher, he was always a little lost. _Very_ lost to be fair.

He was standing in the courtyard across the classrooms, taking in the sun and mulling things over when he saw Byleth passing by. She wasn’t walking as quickly as she did these past few weeks. Her head was low though and he noticed the way her shoulders were drawn in. She’d kept them alive through two fights this week, against bandits and beasts and while they’d pulled through as well as usual, he had barely been able to keep an eye on her on the field. No one could it seemed, Byleth was always a step further ahead. Now he could see the faint, dark lines under her eyes. He swallowed, hurrying after her.

“Hey teach!” he called out,

She jumped and he was taken aback by the very notion she was this tense.

“Hi Claude. Everything alright?”

Her lips were thinly drawn in a flat line, and he wondered if he’d ever seen her smile. She’d smiled during the ball, hadn’t she? It had been tiny and fleeting, but she’d smiled, and it had reached her eyes.

“Yeah, I…”

Embarrassment crept up as he remembered how that smile had made him feel. His heart seemed to be too big for his chest and he cleared his throat, feeling awkward and too young.

“I wanted to check on you actually. You’ve been working even harder lately. How about a tea break?”

That sounded awfully casual, didn’t it?

Byleth paused, her eyes blinking once. A sparkle rose in them, Claude couldn’t help but stare, wanting to make sure it was not just his imagination seeing it.

“That sounds lovely,” she finally answered. “Would now be a good time?”

 _No blubbering, you’re no buffoon, Claude_ , he mentally chided himself.

“Now’s a perfect time.”

He couldn’t fight his smile and hoped it wasn’t giving away too much. He was doing this for her sake, wasn’t he? Byleth raised one hand and dropped it back almost as quickly, Claude biting back his tongue as he wondered if she’d mean to take his arm.

There was a certain distance a teacher had to maintain with her students, it made perfect sense. Without a word, she turned on her heels and he fell in step with her, the pair making their way to the small gazebo by the chapel. Only the teachers were authorized to use it and only a few did. It was smaller than the gazebo reserved to the students, but Byleth never made a big case out of it. He quickened his pace to hold the door for her and insisted to hold her chair, Byleth gracing him with a tiny grin and a thank you.

“I’ll make the tea though,” she decided.

“Afraid I’ll break something?”

“I’ve heard you’re not so good around dishes,” she teased him.

Claude scratched at his hair, feeling sheepish but taking the comment with a chuckle. There was no use arguing, he had been awful at cleaning the dishes whenever he tried and couldn’t believe how many plates he’d broken. Byleth was too used to be in charge, her hands picking a brew, Almyran, much to his surprise, and serving them both a warm cup, while he picked a tray of scones and set it on the table for them to enjoy.

“Thank you,” the teacher said, dipping a scone in the tea and biting into the pastry.

“Don’t mention it.”

The tea was brewed to perfection and the familiar taste was a very welcome encouragement to the young man.

“I wonder, teach, do you like sweets in food?”

She glanced at him, the spark in her eyes shining.

“What are you preparing?”

“Can’t I be curious?” Claude shot back.

“You can. I like all food.”

He rolled his eyes at the answer.

“What about preferences though? Spices are among my favorites,” he offered.

She smiled at him, his heart doing a little jump in his chest.

“I guess I’ve never thought about it,” she admitted, resting her chin in her palm and leaning her head to the left as she reflected upon it. “I’m definitely partial to sweets. Pies… I would bake one whenever I’d have a chance.”

“Where did you find the time to learn that?”

Byleth shrugged, her smile lingering, inquiring herself: “Would you like to sample my cooking?”

“As long as you don’t use those shrooms I’d mentioned the other day,” he laughed.

“Of course not. Do you have a favorite flavor? Apple pie should be easy at this time of the year.”

Was she seriously thinking of baking a pie and letting him have a few slices of it?

“I’m not difficult about desserts. But enough about food. I might need to devour all of these scones otherwise.”

She relaxed in her seat, sipping more tea. The question she asked next took him by surprise.

“How has been your reading lately? Any big find?”

“It… it’s been interesting. But do you want to talk about this? I was actually aiming to divert your mind from worrying over…”

“I thought you could find something in the journal that I might have missed. I didn’t peruse all of it, but I… It’s been on my mind a lot, no matter what I’ve done.”

_To the point you can barely find sleep, teach?_

“Well… There have been _multiple_ things bothering me with this diary, but… How old was Jeralt?”

“Older than he looked. Not that he ever told me how or why.”

Byleth crossed her arms, but if she was angry, it didn’t show in her face or her eyes. She had such complete self-control, Claude couldn’t help feeling amazed again.

“He sounded like a man of a few words.”

“Indeed. What else did you find?”

“Rhea is hiding a lot of things…”

_Starting with what she did to you, but how can I even…?_

His professor dropped her elbows on the table, her arms remaining crossed, the teacups jumping at the sudden motion.

“She’s elusive,” Byleth started. “Everyone is eating out of her palm, even Seteth. I don’t see how…” She sighed, deeply, her shoulders lowered as she threw back her head.

This was the biggest show of exasperation he’d ever seen from her and his eyes were still wide when she looked at him once more.

“How do I get to know… How do we get her to talk?”

“Maybe invite her to tea?”

“And spice it up with some truth serum you will have whisked up for me?” Byleth suggested.

He laughed at that, but briefly so, since his professor was giving him that serious look and her smile was gone.

“Ahem. I could… This is very blasphemous, but there might be… options.”

They were talking about the apostle after all.

“You’re nervous,” Byleth observed. “I was mostly joking.”

“Were you now?”

“Guess it’s hard to tell. But if roofying up _you know who_ can be an option, I’m all ears.”

“Damn, teach.”

“Is that such a scary thing to say? I’m not saying I’m angry at her. Somehow, I feel like I can trust her at this moment in time. But my father was afraid of her and I can see why. If you look at the knights of Seiros as mercenaries, what is happening right now…”

Byleth paused, wondering how badly such a discourse would be received by anyone other than Claude. Among her students, everyone was so devoted, and she couldn’t blame them. Jeralt had kept her away from the teachings of Seiros for a reason. It gave her a clear view of what was really happening. At least, she dared believe so. Rhea was not very different from the people she’d worked for as a mercenary. Outside of looking after her students and teaching them daily, her job could be described as mercenary work. The mission Rhea sent her out on meant killing people that were dubbed wrong by one side and could have been judged right according to others. Byleth had never felt much guilt about killing people. Jeralt considered it a necessary evil and all Byleth could do was survive. After losing his wife, no matter how weird and strange his daughter was, the man didn’t want to risk losing her.

“It feels wrong, no matter how you look at it,” Claude said, supporting her views. “But life’s taught me you need to use unsavory circumstances in your favor sometimes.”

“Very sound advice. Was there anything else in that diary?”

“Well. Your father was definitely trying to understand what was happening with a shady group of people in the last few weeks. He was cryptic in everything he wrote. I think he might have suspected Tomas and a couple of the knights. I’ve tried to identify a few people, but he didn’t leave a lot of clues.”

“That lone wolf really didn’t know how to ask people for help,” Byleth whispered, her gaze lost as memories and nostalgia took over.

Claude had no words for her, finding it hard to stand in silence as her sadness fully showed. He’d lost people, but outside of his parents and a few trustable retainers, he’d never held anyone quite close enough to feel the loss as damaging. He was looking for allies first and then friends and his classmates were becoming a second family to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m quite boring today,” Byleth apologized.

“What? You’re _grieving_ and you’re not boring.”

“Grieving,” she repeated. “I wish I knew… No, enough of that. Claude!”

“Yes, teach?”

“Have you ever browsed the library for fiction books?”

“You mean to tell me you haven’t?! There’s an extensive collection.”

Seeing his smile seemed to comfort her. She got to her feet, gathering the tea set.

“I could use a few recommendations then. Wouldn’t know where to begin. Unless all the stories are about poisoning people,” she added teasingly.

“I have _other_ fields of interest,” he chuckled.

To be continued…

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	2. First reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I write an extended reunion of Claude and Byleth after the 5 years gap. I hope you enjoy!

Claude still remembered the night after Garreg Mach had fallen to the imperial army. How things had been going well as long as Byleth was giving them orders. How he’d tried keeping his teacher in his range, how she was taking too many risks. More risks than in any other fight.

_“The professor’s gone,” Hilda had told him._

Ashe said he’d seen her fall down the cliff and that was all it took for Claude to order Hilda to ride down the cliff with him. Even if her wyvern was tired and even though their army needed to move out; Hilda had accepted in a heartbeat. No matter how much she’d complained about all the work, she was very fond of Byleth.

She was keeping her head straight, Claude forced to hold her pigtails to the side to see their descent. The cliff’s edges were splattered with blood. The bottom was a river of corpses, either knights of Seiros or imperial soldiers. None of them moved. None of them called for help. And Claude was terrified to spot Byleth’s clothes or hair among them.

Jumping off the wyvern to walk in the water and realizing it was deeper than he’d expected had been an impulsive decision. Hilda had screamed, he’d ended up screaming back and after a very dangerous maneuver, she’d pulled him out and knocked on his head twice, effectively snapping him back to his senses. They couldn’t look for Byleth with just the two of them and her wyvern barely had the strength to fly back up to the rest of the class.

The class had broken down upon the news Byleth was lost. Leonie was particularly mad, and Marianne couldn’t help a few tears, Lorenz actually stepping off his horse to embrace her as sobs followed. Claude had waited until everyone had left, hiding inside Garreg Mach for a few hours of dreadful silence. He’d walked back to the sacred grounds where he’d met with Byleth after the ball. He’d sat down on the ground, his bow held close, his quiver half-empty on his shoulder, his body getting cold while his heart ached.

Five years later, he was back in Garreg Mach, making his way through the ruins. His hope was fragile, but he held it tightly to his chest, knowing that while his former classmates might not show up, he would see Byleth if there was any chance she was still alive.

His Teach wasn’t one to break a promise. As the day wore on, he was visited by the recurring thoughts he was chasing a fool’s dream. Then he heard footsteps and instinctively reached for his bow, just in case it wasn’t…

“Claude!”

His heart did something _absolutely_ not good for his health at the sheer thought this could be a dream. He’d dreamed hearing his name in her voice, he was embarrassed to acknowledge the thought. Pushing that aside, he whipped around, his eyes widening for a few seconds. She was just like he’d remembered. Maybe her clothes were a little frayed at the edges. They were the same clothes. Her hair seemed to be damp, not a millimetre longer and her shoulders were shivering, but there she was, going up the steps, her legs growing surer now that she’d seen him.

“Teach!”

He walked up to her, fighting against the sudden need to hold her. Instead, he offered her his hands, which she took, her grip strong, almost desperate. Her eyes took him in, with the beard, the way his shoulders had grown fuller…

“It’s really been five years…” she muttered.

Her eyes were misty, and then she was taking another step, her arms moving up his to wind around him. Claude couldn’t help the reflex to step back, somehow stilling himself. He didn’t want to treat her as something threatening. Not Byleth. From this close, he realized she was shaking.

“H…hey,” he managed. “Where have you been?”

He couldn’t remember ever seeing her shaking or a time when she’d hid her face against his chest like this. He wanted to breathe her in and hold her even closer, but that was all because of the time apart, of longing for the knowledge she was alive. This couldn’t be anything more than this, could it?

“I woke up today. It seems I’ve _slept_ for the past… five years.”

Her voice was steady, but her frame still trembled, and Claude could only imagine how it would feel to wake up after such a long time; and realize what had been missed.

“How did you even…?”

Byleth gasped, a tiny, pained sound and he forgot any restraint, hugging her fully. She wouldn’t lie. She never lied. She’d let him look into secrets she didn’t want under any light, she’d given him her trust over the months spent together, even though he was a sneaky brat and now… She seemed small in his arms and while he’d always been a good head taller than her, it suddenly felt _real_.

“Are you hurt? We tried looking for you, but…”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’ll get myself together, you must think I’m fake or something.”

Her hands pushed against his chest, her eyes frowning at the colorful fabric wrapped around his waist

“Don’t like the changes?” he tried teasing.

She blinked at him, trying to shake her head the negative but freezing mid way, her breathing coming out rough as her shoulders shook even more.

“Teach?! Teach, stay with me, okay?” he asked her, grabbing her shoulders and flinching as she jumped in freight.

“I’m here,” she whispered to herself. “I’m here but I don’t understand _how_ it happened.”

Her voice sounded shrill, which had him wonder just how fresh her memories from the battle at Garrech Mach were.

“Teach…”

“Byleth. It’s Byleth,” she sounded like she was pleading. “I’m fine, I’m just… Why would I need five years? How could I sleep _five_ years?!”

Claude tried hugging her, but she resisted, as though stepping closer and losing sight of his face would be worse than standing where she was, shaking like a leaf.

“Byleth,” he tried, wondering why the name felt so foreign on his tongue. He’d thought it over a thousand times in the past five years. “How about we sit down for a bit?”

“Aren’t the others going to show? I shouldn’t be in this state. I…”

This time, when he pulled her close, she followed the tug of his arms, leaning into him, her elbows poking at his chest as she raised both hands to hold her head.

“You rushed here… Even though you had to be so confused.”

“I needed to see a familiar face.”

“I’m here. This is… unbelievable, but… It’s great to see you again.”

Other words wanted to come out but he held them back. Longing certainly had him mixing things up. He’d missed her. He’d been worried and had tried to convince himself it was just her value he missed. She could help him make his dreams come true. She made every one of his plans work smoothly, she was like a war goddess and she’d picked him and he knew the Golden Deer house wouldn’t have gotten as far without Byleth leading them. But deep down, he knew. When had he ever felt this protective while holding someone close to him? Was it because she’d never shown him weakness outside of the time she’d cried over her father’s brutal death?

“I’m… I’m glad I woke up in time for this promise,” she confessed.

Her voice sounded steadier, but something was still missing, Claude stopping himself mid-way as he’d lifted his free hand to pat her head. He couldn’t do that to his former teacher, could he? She sensed his hesitation, pulling back enough to look around and see his raised hand. Her trembling was finally gone, her exhaustion showing, despite the light smile lighting up her face.

“You’re aiming to comfort me?” she understood.

Claude wondered if the flush he felt in his cheeks was showing. When she named things like that, it made him feel even more self-conscious and he still needed to process the idea she’d been sleeping for five years, the idea she was looking at him with only memories of his teenage self. He wanted to sound cool, he wanted to reassure her, he wanted to keep the old feelings he’d deemed wishful thinking at bay. He needed her help. He barely understood her back then and now he knew she could sleep for years without aging, without thinning, he knew she had no heartbeat. Was she even human? She had absorbed a goddess and a part of him still missed the dark color of her hair. He had her eyes at least.

“Claude?” Byleth insisted.

His hand touched her hair, cupping the back of her head, his pinky brushing against her ear.

“Is this okay?” he asked her, mentally berating himself for being this vague when she was already clearly lost and confused.

“What is?”

Too many options, this was starting to feel dangerous, his heart was aching **again,** and he wanted to keep it quiet.

“Me comforting you?”

 _Way to go and be subtle man!_ He chided himself.

Byleth’s hand reached for his wrist, guiding his hand across her ear, past her hair, till he was touching her cheek and cupping her jaw. Now he was regretting his gloves, even though it kept her from realizing how rough his fingers were from pulling on his bowstring and training with swords.

“No one has touched me in five years,” she stated, her voice calm and neutral while her eyes closed for the shortest time.

 _Don’t mess with me teach, I’m not a child anymore_ , he wanted to warn her.

But that was childish, so instead he tugged on her chin, raising her head lightly, fighting back the shock of seeing her following the gesture. He bit his tongue as he saw how pale and worn her face was. She’d been sleeping, but it couldn’t have been restful and while her hand on his wrist felt strong, he could tell a toll had been paid for all of this time. Had she hit her head when she fell? Had the goddess inside her made it possible for her body to heal itself at the price of her consciousness?

He needed answers, he always felt too ignorant for his own good, he would look everywhere he could to find them, but right now…

“You must be hungry after all this time,” he managed, Byleth blinking her eyes open, a strange, unfamiliar light sparkling in her dark irises and fading back as quickly as it had happened.

Her lips pinched hard together, he could see how dry they were now. And yet a part of him thought about how it would feel to kiss those lips. Right here, right now.

_Who’s hungry for what, huh?_

Byleth gently pushed his hand away, stepping back between his arms, pressing her forehead against his chest.

“I am now, but I wasn’t… I don’t think food should be wasted on me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re shaking again!”

He cared and his voice was carrying it over to her, he didn’t like how open he felt. How his arms felt, filled with a presence, her presence. If she was to step away now, he would feel so empty and that was new, he didn’t need this kind of attachment, not now, not until they had…

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said, her frame stilling.

“What are you even…? If I want you to eat up, you should… We haven’t had tea and scones in forever.”

Regret was pouring out now, but thankfully, Byleth was struggling to keep all of her own emotions in check and decided to ignore his or didn’t notice.

“Tea?” she repeated. “Can we have warm tea?”

His throat clenched at the notion she had had nothing warm in five years.

“Yeah. I just need my hands for a couple minutes,” he said, his teasing tone tentative.

“But _you’re_ warm,” she protested.

Claude’s words drowned down to silence as he hugged her as close as he dared, overwhelmed and knowing she was beyond that emotion. Any thoughts of using her, every drafted plan was forgotten. He wanted her to feel safe. He wanted her warm and content and was realizing how he’d never worried about that before.

“I’ll start a fire. The food I have with me is rations but we can have tea,” he told her.

He didn’t like the impression he was prying her off of him, since she’d never been needy. She’d never asked for anything before. Claude made a point of taking off his black cape to wrap it around her shoulders, ignoring her brief fussing to focus on preparing them both food and tea. When he looked back at her from over the metal cups he was heating up and realized she’d pulled the cape closer to her, he felt his heart doing a little jump. It was silly. And maybe he needed to have himself examined by a doctor.

“It’s almost ready.”

She acknowledged him with a nod, blinking away her thoughtful haze.

“Can you tell me about the others? I must have missed a lot.”

“I only know bits and pieces, but it’s still early. You might be able to hear the news directly from them.”

“That’d be lovely.”

There was no regret on her voice, but Claude could almost taste it in the heaviness surrounding her. He gave her a plate of pickled meat and stale bread , setting the metal cup next to her with a cloth to hold it since it was still burning hot. Then he sat down by her side, keeping a respectful distance, raising a brow as she motioned for him to shuffle closer.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. I want to say that hearing you voicing needs is a nice change, but I don’t appreciate the circumstances bringing this change.”

“A nice change?” she repeated. “What did that wicked mind of yours picture?”

The once-over she gave him had Claude gulping nervously despite how confident he wanted to look in front of her.

“You’ve helped me and the rest of the class a great deal, it’s just normal that I’d like to repay you a little. So… you name it. What would you like?”

She pondered his offer for a long moment, holding her chin in that adorable way he remembered.

“We’re going to need a new promise,” she declared. “Preferably with less years involved,” she added with a sad, forced laugh.

“Teach…”

“Sappiness doesn’t suit you and it’s not what I’m looking for,” she told him. “I’m not your professor anymore. Tell me, I’ve seen one run-down village so far, but how is the situation with… the empire?”

“It’s pretty bad to be honest. The Alliance is not working cohesively, and it has been everyone for themselves. Eldegard is ruthless and has been expanding her territory steadily over the years.”

“Has Dimitri been any help?”

“For all we know, he’s been killed in the first year after you disappeared. Although I highly doubt that.”

Byleth ran one hand through her hair, sensing a headache coming. She could imagine how many innocents had been killed for this quest of grandeur Eldegard was running after.

“The empire is in the way of your dreams, isn’t it?”

Claude blinked at her, surprised she would bring up something that dated back from so long ago. But then again, his wish had been made mere weeks ago for her.

“Doesn’t mean I’ve given up yet,” he said.

Byleth smiled at him.

“I think I’d like to watch over you until you get there.”

“That’s not fair. I was going to ask for your help and you beat me to the punch!”

He laughed despite being truly put off by how naturally she offered her services to him. How she said she’d watch over him, as though he needed supervision. Pushing aside the childish susceptibility, he focused on the fact she was willing to stay by his side.

“One thing that doesn’t work here though is the fact I wanted to do something for you.”

Byleth shook her head at him, almost imperceptibly.

“It’s a kind offer, but I can’t think of anything right now.”

“Really?” he insisted, playfully raising his brows at her.

“Seems that if I let you guess and try out things, I’ll be far more rewarded,” she observed.

 _And it sounds like I won’t get a way to win here,_ he mentally sighed.

“Have we spent too much time together? It sounds like I’ve rubbed off on you,” he teased her.

“No such thing as _too much_ time. Come here.”

He shuffled a few inches closer, curious but still hesitant, barely holding back a gasp as Byleth erased the rest of the distance so she could lean against his shoulder.

“I need to be clingy today. To make sure… Since it’s just for today, it’s not greedy to hold off asking you something until I can figure out something really worth the offer, is it?”

“It’s fine. And I won’t limit you to one offer. I owe you a lot,” he admitted, taking his gloves off while being careful about not moving the side on which she was leaning.

Being arm to arm and feeling the weight of her against his shoulder was something new. Had it even happened once around the campfire, when they were out on a mission? He remembered Byleth always keeping a safe distance, even more when her other students were around. Now that distance was gone and despite his reserve, Claude followed his instinct, taking her hand. A quick glance at her face told him she wasn’t even phased by it, but he knew he couldn’t trust the usual tell-signs when around Byleth. Today had been the most emotion he’d seen from her so far, and she had good reasons for it.

“Seems your hands have grown larger,” she stated. She laced her fingers with his before he could take his hand back, Claude wondering what she was thinking.

“Yours’s soft.”

Glancing at her, he saw the frown on her brow, digging deep.

“My hands were never soft.”

Of course, she’d resent something like that. She was a warrior through and through.

“I bet they won’t stay that way for long. You still have your sword…” he observed, mentally chiding himself for taking note of the weapon at the same time he’d noticed her.

Like the Sword of the Creator mattered more than his Teach did.

“I can’t be entirely useless…”

“Come on teach, if you keep moping around like this, I’ll have to find some scones, and I doubt they’ll be edible.”

She chuckled at that, although weakly, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Wonder how far you’d have to dig.”

A rumbling noise had her jumping by his side, Claude holding her instinctively, only to have her push his arm away to get to her feet.

“Byleth, this is nothing to worry about, it’s just my wyvern!”

“You’re what? I thought only Hilda had…”

But time had passed. And she had a lot of catching up to do.

“I’ll introduce you, Teach.”

The rumbling turned into a screech and Claude ran one hand through his hair.

“This might be more than just my wyvern,” he admitted.

They quickly realized Garrech Mach was raided by bandits.

“Guess it’s time for me to confirm whether I’m fit for a fight or not,” she declared, sounding quite sure of herself.

Claude wanted to object, but the light shining in her eyes reminded him of the old Byleth.

“Want to hitch a ride?” he offered.

She took his hand without hesitation. And with that moment, both of them knew things would be right once more.

To be continued…


	3. I missed you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-game chapter is so necessary due to how disappointed I was that Claude simply up and left. I know he had reasons and my understanding is that it took him mere months to achieve his goal (which is insane), but I’m still a little mad.

Byleth had never expected herself to be so relieved upon seeing a white wyvern. But while she heard of the Almyran colors on the flags carried by the oncoming groups, her eyes could only register one thing. Barbarossa was here. And on his back, coming back to her like a dashing King from tales of old, was Claude von Riegan, wearing a crown and commanding hundreds of men.

Oh if she hadn’t been in such a dire situation, she could have slapped him. He needed a dozen slaps just for leaving, and right as their eyes met, she flipped around, raising her blade to face the soldiers that were attacking Garrech Mach.

She was apostle and queen. She was teacher and preacher for a religion that had altered her life from the day she was born. Her mind would reel whenever she thought of her birth. Of the fact her heart was that of someone else.

Her lungs screamed as she faced soldier after soldier, her arms unwavering, her robes floating around her. With their new reinforcement, the battle was over in a flash. Byleth made it a point to check on her men, even though Cyril and Shamir were already doing so. Which meant she needed to face Claude now.

“Hey Teach! I mean, Byleth, sorry,” Claude added in a whisper, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

She couldn’t help the sentiment he’d grown a little larger in the shoulders yet, her eyes sticking to his as she greeted him with the smallest curtsy.

“Your highness.”

“Oh please, none of that.”

She could see his retinue standing close-by, and discovered a fire in her chest at the idea it would be harder than ever to have him to her alone.

“I still need to thank you for backing us up,” she insisted, wondering if some of her accumulated irritation was showing on her face. She kept her mouth thin and neutral, searching his eyes for the words he’d told her.

_“I want you by my side. I love you.”_

Something within ached and she had yet to understand what it was, there was so much she couldn’t fathom…

“I missed you,” she whispered, grateful to the fact no bitterness colored her voice.

Claude bit on his lower lip, the hint of a smirk showing, his eyes softening.

“Did you now? I missed you too,” he added, taking a step closer to her.

That maintained a very decent distance between them, a distance that irked Byleth beyond words at this point. She erased it, ignoring his extended hands to link her arms behind his neck, using some of her weight to make him lean down. She saw the surprise on his face and the blush on his cheeks, offering him a brief smile before kissing him fully. The exclamations of shock and encouragement were instantaneous, Byleth clearly making out the words “So that’s our queen!”. Claude was too shell-shocked to react, his hands finding her waist and awkwardly gripping it despite the sword at her side. His lips felt warm and also soft. He was adorably hesitant, and she liked the impression, despite wishing he was already comfortable kissing her. They had so much time to make up for.

They parted too soon to her liking, Claude nearly coming after her for more, halting himself as he heard his people asking.

“Your highness, is this your betrothed?”

“I… Did I give you the impression every woman of Fodlan greeted me this way?” he shot back, his arms remaining around Byleth’s frame.

“We don’t know people’s customs well in this land, if there’s anything we need to learn…” a young man added, sounding playful.

Byleth wondered if she had to worry about any lady from her ranks. Claude loved both of his countries, but he hadn’t told her about Almyra as much as she would have liked. It had taken him forever to simply use the country’s name.

“I want to ask for my favor now,” she told him, keeping her voice low enough, no one but him could hear her.

“Now?” he repeated, gulping down as his nervousness rose a little more.

Claude looked both flustered and taken aback by her actions and Byleth hoped her behavior right now wasn’t going to turn him away from her. She was always so quiet and reserved and he liked how mysterious that made her. Watching him go after opening herself up to him made her felt like a spurn lover. She wore the ring he gave her as a pendant, refusing to put it on her finger until his promise had held.

“It’s been nearly a year since I last saw you,” she observed. “And while saying you missed me, there was only one letter that made it past the border.”

“Byleth, I don’t think now is the best…”

She didn’t like the impression she was being difficult, but she couldn’t help the many worries she’d collected over the past few months. They’d been through a lot of things together, but all in all, he didn’t need her by his side when he’d gone to Almyra to rise his way up to being a full-fledged king.

“Claude, please,” she insisted, her hands holding to the golden fabric weaving an intricate pattern across his chest.

He ran one hand through her pale hair, his lips pinched together as he gathered just what she meant when she said she’d missed him. He hated the idea his absence could have hurt her.

“Guys, can you give us some space?” he shouted over his shoulder, giving them half a minute to disperse before whistling for his wyvern, the animal making his way through the ranks of soldiers and stretching his wings to give them a semblance of shelter.

Byleth let out the breath she had been holding, surprised she was this anxious. Looking up into Claude’s eyes, she was greeted by the widest grin she’d seen on his face.

“I was worried you weren’t even eager to see me,” he confessed. “Even your letters sound neutral!”

Blinking, she shook her head at him.

“Only because what you wrote was mundane and…!”

He cut her off with a kiss, less hesitant, but still looking for his bearings, Byleth letting herself go lax between his arms just to test his reaction. He gasped, holding her even closer to him, the hilt of her sword digging into his side.

“Are you okay?”

“I barely tasted the feel of your arms around me before,” she observed. “I’m beyond eager.”

She pulled him in for another kiss, teasing his lower lip between hers, letting out a sigh of approval when he pushed her backward, her back hitting the wyvern’s hind-leg. Barbarossa let out a rumbling sound, but didn’t move away and Byleth carefully held on to Claude, cupping his face with both hands. In between kisses, she heard him cursing about battle gloves, soon feeling his bare hands burrowing in her hair to grasp the back of her head.

It seemed that now, he wouldn’t let anything hold him back and she’d hoped for this from the moment he’d made her chest clench almost painfully with the smile in his eyes. She leaned back further, pulling him after her, humming and breathing roughly into the following kisses. And as suddenly as the storm of passion had started, it was brought to a halt, Claude lowering his head into the crook of her neck to catch his breath.

“Byleth, my dear Byleth, I’m sorry I left you wanting. I missed you terribly, I just…”

“I love you,” she managed, his sharp intake of air making her wonder if his new shivers were good.

He pulled back enough to look at her, her hands dropping to hold onto his shoulders as their eyes locked.

“You do? I… I asked if you’d marry me, but I can’t remember if you said yes,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ve been facing all sorts of thing, but seeing you again while not knowing if I… Did you say yes back then?”

“How could I? You were leaving. Dropping everything at my feet to go face monsters and danger on your own. I _thought_ yes. But do you really want a thing like me as your queen?”

“You’re not a _thing_. You’re beautiful. And inspiring.”

Now it was her turn to swallow, hoping it would help the knot in her throat vanishing.

“Are you really Claude? That’s a lot of compliments in a single breath.”

“You’re surprised only because I didn’t let you see my enamored self yet.”

“I remember you blushing before.”

The flush in his cheeks intensified at that, Byleth smiling at him.

“You might have caught bits and pieces,” Claude admitted. “But I still need an answer to that question. We don’t have to wait any longer, we can be together. You just have to say you want it.”

“I want you,” she said instead, taking his breath away and hoping her eyes weren’t filling up with tears. She was so happy to have him here after all this time.

The next kiss was wet and a little salty, but neither of them minded. They were both so relieved to be together again.

“Claude Von Riegan!” Seteth called out, “I believe we have been patient enough.”

“Why is he calling _my_ name like that? He knows you’re here.” Claude sighed.

“But I’m the Apostle. It involves some privileges.”

He chuckled, planting a kiss on her hair before tugging her to her feet, wondering if she felt just as dizzy as he was himself.

“Does being engaged to you gives me any form of privileges?” he enquired playfully.

Byleth crossed her arms in front of her chest, giving him a thoughtful look.

“I have a few ideas, but we need to statute on why my love isn’t enough on its own…”

“I did not say that!” he protested, mentally cursing for the fact Barbarossa picked that exact moment to stretch his wings and expose them to their surrounding audience.

“You sir are going to swim in rough waters for the rest of your life if you marry this lady,” one of his subordinates laughed.

Claude rolled his eyes at him, feeling Byleth’s arms wrapping around him again and the light pressure of her head against his chest. He hugged her back with one arm. It seemed the wait he’d put her under meant there would be no shortage of public display of affection.

“As long as I’m not alone,” he whispered, making sure she was the only one hearing it.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut might be in the next chapter. Let me know what you thought of this one!

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is. I might go back to the ball to tell from Byleth’s pov, I realized that was something I also wanted to do. But I have a lot of ideas for this one. I’ll try to keep them coming in chronological order, but we’ll see how it turns out. You can expect very slow updates, but I hope you’ll leave a comment to let me know what you think and encourage me in writing more. The rating is definitely subject to go up, cause eventual smut will appear -after the time skip-.


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